The woman had seen events in her life take quite the interesting turn, and she wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to feel about that. She’d seen the pack she was in shrink to nearly half its size with a princess leaving after news that a traitor had been kicked off pack lands, taking a child with her into an uncertain future. She’d seen the monarch step down, even if it was temporarily, and push Lilya herself up to fill the role… a role she took, even if she wasn’t entirely sure that she was capable of fulfilling the duties that came with it. She had to try, right?
Either way, it was a lot to process so she’d taken a short-ish journey to clear her head, intent on heading back and returning to the lands she’d called home for quite a while now… a little over six months now, or maybe more? She’d honestly lost count of the cycles of the moon so she wasn’t entirely sure. She was sure that anyone else would have been elated to step up and help Kisla, but Lilya felt more anxious than anything, because she didn’t know how to lead. She knew how to fight, and she knew how to hunt and scout… but it was like leadership was a whole new level of terrifying for her.
She’d see, she supposed, and only time could tell what fate had in store for all of them, right? God, she hoped so.
It was then and only then she noted herself trailing particularly close to a border she didn't recognize, taking steps back out of respect for the fact that the land had been claimed, though curiosity caused her to linger. It wasn't the Monadnock; she would have remembered the scent from the meeting with Wraith and Craw... a new pack? One she had yet to discover? How interesting...